


Bitch, Shut the Fuck Up

by kittyhazelnut



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Gen, Monogram gets the backtalk he deserves, Perry swears a lot, Platypus!Perry, back on my self-indulgent bullshit, entirely platonic for most of the fic, talking!Perry, the end might get slightly more ambiguous relationship-wise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25286350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyhazelnut/pseuds/kittyhazelnut
Summary: Perry has been with OWCA since he was a baby, and he has been at the top of his game since day one. If he had a dollar for every time someone called him OWCA’s best agent, the Flynn-Fletchers would never have to work a day in their lives.Which is why he can’t believe his ears when Major Monogram assigns him to Dr. HeinzfuckingDoofenshmirtz.Perry may just be a platypus, but that doesn't mean he has to sit there and take everyone's bullshit, and he's going to make sure everyone knows it.
Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Comments: 117
Kudos: 297





	1. Chapter 1

Perry has been with OWCA since he was a baby, and he has been at the top of his game since day one. If he had a dollar for every time someone called him OWCA’s best agent, the Flynn-Fletchers would never have to work a day in their lives. 

Which is why he can’t believe his ears when Major Monogram assigns him to Dr. Heinz _fucking_ Doofenshmirtz.

“Bitch, shut the _fuck_ up,” Perry snaps. “Doofenshmirtz? Fuckin’ ‘ _I’m gonna destroy every shoe in the tri-state area_ ’ Doofenshmirtz? Not a chance in hell, buddy.”

It’s probably worth noting that when people refer to him as the best agent, they mean he gets the job done the most efficiently. They do not mean that he is the best agent to hang out with, or, even worse, to boss around. If he wasn’t so good at his job, he’s sure Monogram would have kicked his ass out years ago, but as it is, they can’t stand to lose their best agent over some sass, and thank god for that. He is overworked, underpaid, and tired as hell, and Monogram deserves to know that.

Monogram gives an exaggerated sigh. He does that every day after Perry swears at him for the first time, probably because he’s still convinced Perry gives at least one fuck about his feelings -- spoiler alert: he doesn’t -- and he hopes it will make him feel guilty -- spoiler alert: it won’t.

“It will just be for today,” Monogram assures him. “I know, you’re used to bigger threats, but Agent W is out today --”

“Woah, hold the motherfucking phone,” Perry interrupts. “Agent W got a day off? I have asked for a day off every fucking week for a year, and you didn’t give me any of them. You didn’t even give me Christmas off, for fuck’s sake, and now the fucking warthog is sticking me with his shit?”

“I know, I know,” Monogram says quickly. “Agent W is sick, otherwise he would definitely be here right now --”

“That’s such bullshit,” Perry says. “I had the flu and you still made me drive to fuckin’ Mexico to stop a deal that had already happened.”

“Again, I know, but --”

“On Christmas Eve,” Perry snaps. He barely made it home before the boys woke up on Christmas morning, and that was after ditching his motorcycle and pushing his jet pack to its absolute limit. It's been four months and he’s still bitter about it.

“I know, I’m sorry about that,” Monogram says, and Perry can’t help but wonder if anyone else has ever gotten an apology out of him. 

“You’re just sorry you couldn’t throw me somewhere more useful,” Perry deadpans. “Whatever. What am I doing with Doofenshmirtz?”

Monogram clears his throat and begins the briefing. "Doofenshmirtz has been spotted buying a lot of white fabric and thread. We think he may be up to something, and it’s up to you to stop it.”

Perry just stares at him.

“That, uh…” Monogram glances around awkwardly. “That’s all. You can go now.”

“That’s it?” Perry repeats. “That’s all I got?”

“Um... yeah,” Monogram says. 

“So you don’t know what he’s doing?” Perry says incredulously.

“Well, no, but --”

“For all you know, he’s just trying to make another pharmacist coat,” Perry says. “Why do I have to go all the way across town just to deal with his shitty sewing?”

“This is how all his schemes start out,” Monogram says. 

Perry crosses his arms.

“Carl, tell him,” Monogram says, and Perry is half convinced he does it specifically because he knows Carl is Perry’s one work-related weakness. The guy’s not getting paid a single cent, _and_ he has to work side-by-side with freaking Francis every day. Perry doesn’t know how he does it -- or, more importantly, _why_ he does it -- but he makes a point of never getting mad at the kid.

“As you know,” Carl explains, “Dr. Doofenshmirtz is a _very_ strange person, and, obviously, that means his schemes are strange, too. If we waited for concrete evidence that he was up to something evil, he’d probably be the ruler of the tri-state area by now.”

Perry rolls his eyes. “Alright, I’ll bite. What am I doing to him?” He’s dealt with a lot of different criminals, and he’d like to know if he’s supposed to kill, maim, or arrest this dude.

“Just stopping him from doing whatever he’s trying to do,” Monogram says. 

Perry gapes at him. “Seriously? I’m not even taking him in?”

“Legally, no, we can’t have him arrested yet,” Monogram says. “At most, the laws he’s broken would result in a small fine.”

Perry groans. “Fine, whatever. And when I’m done thwarting him, I can go home?”

“Yes.”

“And if he’s not doing anything, I can go home?”

Monogram sighs. “I guess so.”

“Cool.” Perry hops in his hover car, and, as he’s leaving, he calls back to Monogram and Carl, “Peace out, bitches!”

Now to go thwart a dumbass pharmacist.


	2. Chapter 2

In all his time working for OWCA, Perry has never seen a worse trap.

There’s an X on the floor. The cage is _maybe_ eight feet off the ground. It’s just so fucking _obvious_. He may be a better agent than most, but he’s decently sure not even Agent W would fall for this. This is so pathetic, so amateur, it takes all his self control to plant his feet just behind the X instead of turning around and walking out.

“Oh, you must be Perry the Platypus!” Dr. Doofenshmirtz says. “Major Monobrow told me you were filling in for Waldon the Warthog today. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Heinz Doofen--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know who you are,” Perry interrupts. “Just point me to the scheme I need to thwart so I can get the fuck home.”

Doofenshmirtz frowns. “Major Monobrow didn’t tell me he was sending his _rudest_ agent.”

“That’s because Francis is a dumbass,” Perry deadpans. “Again, what am I destroying here?”

“I’m sorry, his name is _Francis_?” Doofenshmirtz bursts out laughing. “His name is Francis! Oh my god, that is comedy gold. I’m going to have to tease him about that later.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Perry says. “Where’s your evil scheme?”

“You know, I don’t think you can see it from there,” Doofenshmirtz says. “Just take a step forward…”

“How fucking dense do you think I am?” Perry asks. “You’re not putting me in a cage. I don’t care how easily I could break out; I am _not_ a domestic cat.”

“Wait, how did you know there was a trap there?” Doofenshmirtz asks.

Perry points at the X on the ground, then to the cage above it.

“Oh.” Doofenshmirtz looks between the cage and his temporary nemesis. “Yes, I can see how that might give it away.” He frowns. “I actually spent a lot of time and effort making sure this cage was the right size for you, though, so do you think you can do me a solid and just…” He gestures for Perry to take a step forward.

Perry rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever.” He steps into the trap, and the cage falls on top of him. Perry subtly pulls his bolt cutter from his hat. He’ll just wait here until the guy shows him what he’s supposed to destroy, and they’ll be on their merry way.

“There we go,” Doofenshmirtz says, content. “So, Perry the Platypus, I suppose you’re wondering what I’ve been working on.”

“No, not really,” Perry says.

Doofenshmirtz shoots him a glare. “Work with me here.”

Perry just crosses his arms but lets him continue.

“As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted,” Doofenshmirtz says, “I suppose you’re wondering what I’ve been working on. Well, you see, Perry the Platypus, when I was a young boy back in Gimmelshtump, my parents gave me two white shirts to alternate between. Do you know what happens when you have to rewear a white shirt for a week straight, Perry the Platypus?”

Perry gestures to his unclothed platypus body. “Do I _look_ like I would know what it’s like to wear a white shirt?”

“I’ll tell you,” Doofenshmirtz says. “It gets dirty. And when the other kids find out that you’re going to have to keep wearing it, they throw things at you to try to stain it, and you have to keep wearing it anyways because your parents are too busy making dresses for your little brother that they’re going to give to -- you know what? That’s a whole different backstory.”

Perry raises an eyebrow. As much as he hates to admit it, that was a shockingly captivating story for a barely-coherent rant of an evil scientist, and he almost wishes the guy would have finished his thought. What even _was_ his childhood? And why were his parents making dresses for his brother? He’s never been one to push gender stereotypes, but that’s kinda weird.

“I’m sorry, Perry the Platypus,” Doofenshmirtz says. “I spent too long modifying the trap that I didn’t get to finish drafting my monologue. I promise I’m usually much more prepared.”

Perry frowns. Did he think that was a judgemental look? No, it was sympathetic -- and confused; he’d be lying if he said he really understood what just happened -- but it wasn’t judgemental. He almost rushes to assure the man of that, but fortunately, he’s reminded at the last moment that this is an evil scientist, and he does not need to be coddled. He needs to be stopped, and that’s all Perry’s here to do.

“Anyways…” Doofenshmirtz walks across the room to a suspicious-looking lump under a tarp. He pulls said tarp off to reveal some strange machine, and Perry doesn’t know what to make of it. “Behold, Perry the Platypus, the white-shirt-inator! Soon, every single person in the tri-state area will be forced to wear only white shirts, and they can suffer as I have suffered!”

Perry stares at him. “Seriously?”

Doofenshmirtz cocks his head to the side, puzzled. “What do you mean, ‘seriously’?”

“Your evil plan is to give people white shirts?” Perry repeats. “What type of bullshit idea is that?”

“It’s an evil one, that’s what,” Doofenshmirtz says stubbornly.

“No, it’s not,” Perry says. “You’re going to mildly inconvenience a few thousand people at most, and you’re probably going to help out some poor homeless people by giving them a new shirt. Not quite the evil plan you seem to think it is.”

“What? No, it’s…” Doofenshmirtz frowns. “You know, you might have a point.”

“Damn right I have a point.” Perry cuts the bars of the cage with his bolt cutter and steps out of the trap. He tosses one of the detached bars at the white-shirt-inator, smashing the self destruct button with ease -- why did he _label_ it as a self destruct button? It’s like he was asking for it to be blown up. “See ya around, Doofenshmirtz. Except, you know, hopefully not.”

“What, that’s it? Doofenshmirtz gapes at him. “You come in here, you mock trap and my scheme, destroy my inator, and now you’re just _leaving_?”

“That’s kinda in the job description, buddy,” Perry says. What has Agent W been doing around here that Doofenshmirtz thinks he’s entitled to any more of an agents’ time than necessary? 

"Oh." Doofenshmirtz frowns. "Okay, well, curse you, Perry the Platypus."

Perry tips his hat once before peacing out. If he's lucky, Monogram will follow through with his promise and give Perry the rest of the day off, but he's not holding his breath. He'd like to get as much time with his boys as possible while he can. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, there you are, Perry!"

Perry chatters. Home, sweet home. 

He's not sure when the last time he was home this early was. The boys must have just gotten back from school no more than 10 minutes ago, and they're still eating their after school snack — pie today, though that's no surprise. He takes a whiff. Doonkelberry. Nice. 

"And what have you been up to today, Perry?" Phineas asks. 

Perry chatters again. Even if he could admit that he could talk, it would be a pain in the ass to explain to the boys that he just stopped an evil scientist from giving people white shirts. You can't exactly say that to an ordinary citizen with no context, but, honestly, Perry barely understands the context himself. 

In hindsight, though, it was rather enjoyable. He might be slightly biased, given that he was expecting to want to pick his own eyeballs out, but still. Doofenshmirtz may be an absolute idiot, but he's _interesting_ , and that's something a lot of his foes can't say. 

Is there a file for him at OWCA? Maybe if Perry gets some downtime later, he'll check it out. He's _really_ interested in why he was forced to wear his brother's dresses as a kid. It's going to bother him until he figures it out. 

"So, boys, what did _you_ do today?" Linda asks. 

"Oh, we helped the janitor fix a leak in the gym ceiling," Phineas tells her. 

"The _gym_ ceiling?" Linda repeats. "The one that's 20 feet off the floor? And how did you manage that?"

"Oh, it was easy," Phineas says. "The ladder wasn't big enough to reach the ceiling, so we took some old parts from the abandoned janitor's closet and made it fly."

"Oh, did you, now?" Linda shakes her head, amused at their imagination for all the wrong reasons. "Well, I'm sure the janitor appreciated that."

It's times like these that exercise all his restraint, which leaves him with a grand total of zero self-control when he's left alone with Monogram or some evil villain. If he can't tell Linda that they doubtlessly really did invent a flying ladder at school, he's going to use his pent-up thoughts as fuel to roast Monogram harder. 

"Mom!" Candace yells, her voice almost overshadowed by her feet stomping on the stairs. "Where are my earbuds?"

"On the washing machine," Linda says without looking up. "You left them in your pocket again."

Candace just groans and heads to the bathroom…

And she trips over Perry on the way over, landing flat on the floor and probably leaving Perry a nasty bruise in the process. He growls, annoyed, and once again, it's a miracle he can't speak in front of his host family, or Phineas and Ferb would be learning a lot of words they're too young to hear. 

"Stupid mutt," Candace mutters, pushing herself to her feet.

Though glaring would give away too much of his identity, he can’t help but give her the briefest look of disdain. _He's_ the stupid one? He was just lying here! He didn't do anything! She's the one that walked right into him. 

"Candace, you know better than to talk to Perry that way," Linda says condescendingly. 

"What? It's not like he can understand me anyway," Candace pouts. She looks at him pointedly. "Stupid. Little. Meat. Brick."

Perry chatters, and though it seems mindless just to prove her point, he’s actually pretty annoyed. If only she knew…

"Oh, c'mere Perry." Phineas picks him up and puts him down in his lap. "You're not a stupid little meat brick. You're the smartest platypus I know."

"He's also the only platypus you know," Candace deadpans before walking away. 

"Well, still." Phineas pulls him into a hug. "You're the best, Perry."

Perry chatters again, but this time, it's a happy chatter. He may come off as an asshole who hates everyone he meets, but that's because there are so many people in his line of business that he can't help but hate — or, more often, is legally obligated to hate. 

That's why he likes coming home. He likes the time off, even if it doesn't last long, to just hang out with his family. He would do anything for them, they would do anything for him, and he couldn't ask for anything better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, I'm not dead! Kinda weird to end a month-and-a-half-long hiatus on a fic about speaking!Perry with a chapter that he doesn't speak in but it be like that sometimes. He'll talk in the next chapter, so at least there's that?


	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning, Agent P," Monogram greets him. 

Perry just rolls his eyes. It would be a good morning if he'd finally get a day off, but alas, that's about as far from the realm of possibility as the kids taking a day off, and anyone who knows Phineas, Ferb, and Candace knows that’s never going to happen.

"I'm very sorry to do this to you, Agent P, but we're understaffed again today," Monogram tells him, and Perry is already about to throw him off a cliff. "Agent W is at the vet, so I'm going to have to ask you to deal with Doofenshmirtz again."

"Okay." He’d take Doofenshmirtz over a second high-profile villain any day. He can only deal with so many dangerous criminals before he needs a light-hearted case like this.

Monogram gapes at him. "' _Okay_ '?"

Perry shrugs. "Yeah." It'll be interesting to see what he comes up with next, that's for sure. 

"Okay…" Monogram clears his throat. "Well, Doofenshmirtz was spotted buying hundreds of bottles of Sudafed from the local drug store. It's possible that he's just very sick, but he didn't call out today, so we can only assume he's up to no good."

"Wait, hold up," Perry says, incredulous. "You let _evil fucking scientists_ have sick days, and I can't?" 

"Well…" Monogram trails off uncomfortably. 

"At this point, you _really_ owe me a day off."

Perry hops out of his seat and heads to his hover car, taking off into the sky without another word. 

~~

Perry crashes through Doofenshmirtz's door, leaving behind a platypus-shaped hole that is truly a work of art, if he does say so himself. Once again, the trap is marked, but this time, it's with a light-colored panel, and Perry can't tell how it's going to work when the trap itself isn't there. Out of curiosity and nothing more, he steps into the discolored tile, and what appears to be an oversized pill capsule breaks through the floor and he's stuck. 

Well. 

That's interesting. 

"Ha!" Doofenshmirtz bellows, jumping into view from god-knows-where. "I bet you didn't see _that_ coming, did you?"

"Nope, you got me," Perry deadpans. "What's the scheme for today?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Doofenshmirtz says, a smile on his face. "Well, you see, Perry the Platyp—" 

He cuts himself off with a sneeze, and Perry is half expecting his snot to cover the entire room with how loud it is. Somehow, he manages to cover his nose with a tissue that Perry's decently sure he didn't have a minute ago. He tosses it to the trash barrel, but it hits the side and bounces out. So close, yet so far...

"Isn't that cool?" Doofenshmirtz pulls up his lab coat sleeve to reveal a mechanical tissue dispenser. 

Perry raises an eyebrow. It's interesting, he'll give him that. Efficient, too, apparently. 

"You see, Perry the Platypus," Doofenshmirtz begins again, "I woke up today with a cold, so, naturally, I went to the local drug store for some Benadryl. But, when I got there, there was none left!”

Perry bites back a laugh. What type of monologue is this?

“So I had to walk _all the way through_ the store and back to my car with a runny nose, and I could see people laughing at me the whole time,” Doofenshmirtz continues. “So, when I got home, the first thing I did was make this bad boy.” He shows Perry the tissue dispenser in his sleeve one more time. “And _then_ I decided to exact my revenge. Behold!” He pulls a tarp off his new invention. “The runny nose-inator!”

Perry snorts. “ _That’s_ your big revenge plan?” 

“Oh, okay, Mr. Smarter-Than-Thou,” Doofenshmirtz says sarcastically. “And what would _you_ propose I do to get revenge on everyone who mocked me for being sick?”

“Nothing because you’re _really_ fucking overreacting, but I’m guessing that’s not the answer you wanted to hear.”

“No, no it’s not,” Doofenshmirtz agrees. “So, I loaded this bad boy up with thousands of Sudafed pills, and with the push of a button --”

“I don’t think that’s how Sudafed works,” Perry remarks.

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s going to give every healthy person in the tri-state area a runny nose, if that’s what you’re going for,” Perry tells him. “I mean, maybe a few people, but unless you somehow scientifically engineered the Sudafed, I think you’re doing this wrong.”

Doofenshmirtz crosses his arms. “I think _you’re_ doing this wrong.”

“Well, you might have a point there.” Perry smashes the trap open with ease and heads for the inator, ready to hit the self destruct button and call it a day.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” Doofenshmirtz whines, stepping in front of him and blocking his path in the least efficient way possible. Perry could easily jump over him or slide under him or even knock him backwards into the self destruct button if he wanted to. 

“Why not?” Perry asks. “You finished your monologue.”

Doofenshmirtz pauses. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Perry slides between his legs and reaches for the self destruct button, acutely aware of how incredibly easy this was. With any other scheme, he’d be afraid he missed something, that something was going to come back and bite him in the ass. With Doofenshmirtz… Well, this is about what you can expect from Doofenshmirtz.

“You’re not even going to put up a fight?” Doofenshmirtz asks, disappointed. “You’re just going to thwart and run again?”

“Would you _like_ me to fight you before I hit the self destruct button?” Perry asks.

“Well, yeah, kinda.”

“Okay, sure.” Perry looks up at him with a small smirk. “What’s your safe word?”

Doofenshmirtz stares at him. “What?”

“You know, when you decide you can’t take it anymore and you just want me to thwart your scheme and run,” Perry says. “What’s your safe word?”

“Um… ‘stop’?”

“Boring, but okay,” Perry says. “Tell you what. You can have the first blow.”

Doofenshmirtz makes the most of it, swinging his foot towards the platypus. Unfortunately for him, Perry has fantastic reflexes, and he grabs Doofenshmirtz’s foot with ease, pulling him to the ground. He hops up on Doofenshmirtz’s chest and gets a few good punches to his face…

And Doofenshmirtz doesn’t really seem to care?

“Why is this not hurting you?” Perry asks. 

“Oh, no, it is,” Doofenshmirtz assures him. “But I’ve had worse.”

Perry scoffs. “How have you possibly had worse?” Agent W is _nothing_ compared to him. There is no way he can out-punch Perry the motherfucking Platypus.

“Have you ever been to Drusselstein?” Doofenshmirtz asks. “Not a fun place to grow up.”

Perry just stares at him. He’s not sure what to make of that, but the fact that he referenced _growing up_ as a time when he’s had worse than a top-level secret agent’s punch… What the hell _was_ his childhood? He was willing to overlook the “only wearing the same two white shirts” thing, but this is… What the fuck?

Doofenshmirtz takes advantage of Perry’s shock to push him away, and while Perry’s shaking himself off, Doofenshmirtz hurries to the inator. It takes Perry a moment to pull himself back to reality, something he’s not exactly accustomed to. He’s never been caught so off-guard on a case before. He’s seen some shit, sure, and he’s done some even worse shit -- there’s a mass grave in southern Arkansas to prove it -- but something about this is harder to comprehend than a little mass murder to save the entire North American continent. 

In overall OWCA terms, Doofenshmirtz is about as small a threat as they can get. Perry typically spends his time stopping terrorists, which is why he has no problem doing whatever’s necessary, and nothing ever bothers him about it. But these are people who deserve what they have coming to them. He’s not sure what Doofenshmirtz was up to as a child, but he can safely assume he did not deserve to get hit with as much intensity as a secret agent’s punch, and the fact that he seems to be implying that he did really shakes Perry to his core.

And it becomes clear that Perry was shaken to his core when he realizes a moment too late that Doofenshmirtz just shot off the inator. Perry springs to action, smashing the self destruct button before it can finish firing, but he was too late to stop its initial blow. However this Sudafed-powered inator works, it’s going to affect some people, that’s for sure. He just hopes it doesn’t actually get them sick, because he’d feel guilty knowing it was his fault.

“I have to admit,” Doofenshmirtz says, “I made it further than I thought I would with that.”

Just to get some of his anger out, Perry jumps up and kicks Doofenshmirtz in the face. So what if he felt bad that the guy had a rough childhood? It doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the hell Perry can bring now. 

And with that, Perry heads for the door, content.

“Curse you, Perry the Platypus!” Doofenshmirtz yells.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Perry replies before peacing the fuck out so he can mope in peace.


	5. Chapter 5

Perry makes it home before Phineas and Ferb get back from school, and while he probably could go see Linda or Candace, he decides to take the time to work on some paperwork in his lair. He doesn’t tend to put much effort into it on a normal day; he usually bends the truth and omits a few questionable details so OWCA doesn’t call him out for breaking the rules and then calls it a day. It sounds illegal, but Monogram has all but admitted that he doesn’t care what Perry has to do to take down the criminals he goes after, so he just has to keep it out of his case summaries so the higher-ups don’t get upset.

Writing his case summary for today’s battle with Doofenshmirtz is a bit more difficult. He can usually take comfort in the fact that he knows he handled himself well on duty, even if he _technically_ goes against protocol in the process. Today, he’s not quite sure he _did_ handle himself well, and he doesn’t really want to admit that on paper. The fact that he slipped up with someone like Doofenshmirtz is embarrassing, to say the least.

Which begs the question: what does he write in his case summary?

OWCA training dictates that while lower-level agents with one nemesis they revisit day after day can have a little more freedom, top tier agents like Perry are to get in and get out. He’s sure that the fact that he was facing someone like Doofenshmirtz will forgive him of any reprimands for allowing himself to get trapped or needlessly punching Doofenshmirtz in the face, but as for the rest of it…

He froze on the job. That’s not good even for the worst of agents, so as the best of the best, there’s no way he can admit that it happened. How could he possibly explain on his paperwork that Doofenshmirtz managed to get a shot off because Perry was so taken aback by a single comment he made? How can he explain that the thought of this evil scientist having an abusive background -- something that’s not uncommon amongst his enemies, though they don’t usually talk about it -- took him that off guard?

But it looks like he doesn’t have to.

Monogram’s face appears on the screen, and Perry immediately drops his clipboard and slides his pen back in his hat to give Monogram his full attention -- and his full sass, but that’s just a staple in their relationship.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Monogram says. 

Perry raises an eyebrow. Does he have another assignment already? Usually that starts with a buzz from his watch, whether he’s already in his lair or not. This has to be the first time Monogram showed up on the big screen first. 

“You thwarted Doofenshmirtz’s plans today, correct?” Monogram asks.

Perry holds up his clipboard for a brief moment. “And you’ll read all about it tomorrow, sarcasm and all.”

“Right, of course,” Monogram says, and Perry has a sneaking feeling that Monogram actually likes that Perry adds some pizzazz to the otherwise boring reports. “Believe it or not, one of our censors caught a glimpse of some type of ray emanating from Doofenshmritz’s balcony. We’re just trying to determine if that was a mistake on our part, or...?”

Well, he might as well admit it here before he has to write it down, right?

“No, he did fire off a shot,” Perry says. “I hit the self destruct button within seconds of it going off, though, so I don’t think it did much damage.”

“Oh, no, we’re not worried about it doing any damage,” Monogram says. “Agent W tends to accidentally let him get a few shots off, too.”

Perry clenches his teeth. He made _one_ mistake, and now’s being compared to Agent fucking W? How is that fair? This might be worse than an actual lecture. At least his lectures usually involve Monogram admitting that Perry is the best agent they have, and they’re just disappointed he’s not better. 

“I just don’t understand,” Monogram says. “You’re usually so on top of things. You can stop a terrorist organization with just your bare hands and not make a single mistake. How did Doofenshmirtz get around that?”

Perry sighs. And there it is. There’s the lecture. It’s a lot shorter than they usually are; usually he gets lectured because he made a mistake that could have cost someone’s life -- or, in a few rare cases, a mistake that _did_ cost lives. He’s used to being berated for it, and he’s more than content to just sit there with his arms crossed and take it, but this is different. He’s not really being berated; rather, his skills are being questioned, and rightfully so. 

“I was just a little out of it,” Perry says finally. It occurs to him that he could probably use this to his advantage, though, so he adds, “I mean, I haven’t had a day off in over a year, and that gets to be a lot, you know? There’s a lot on my mind, no time to decompress, I can’t --”

“Fine, you can have tomorrow off!” Monogram says, exasperated. “But don’t pull something like this again just to get a vacation because it’s not going to work.” 

Monogram disappears from the screen, and Perry lets out a long breath. He really wasn’t expecting that exaggeration to get him anywhere, but if Monogram wants to think it was just a ploy for a day off, he’s certainly not going to admit that he’s just a dumbass. Now to finish his paperwork, and it’s back home for the next 36 hours. It doesn’t get any better than that.


	6. Chapter 6

Perry has a lot to think about that evening, and, with Phineas and Ferb at school for some extracurricular activity, he has more than enough time to do it. 

Perry lies down in the kitchen, as far from the hustle and bustle of the Flynn-Fletchers as possible. He loves them, but he doesn't particularly want to listen to Candace's high school gossip or the parents' Irish dancing right now. 

He has a _lot_ of questions about Doofenshmirtz. The most pressing, of course, is what was his childhood like? He can't get that one line out of his head. _I've had worse_. Perry's the best agent OWCA has. There _is_ no worse than him. 

Except, apparently, Drusselstein. 

Perry tried looking through his files, but said files are _huge_. The agents assigned to him must have taken their job too seriously, because for the first few days, they would write down every little thing he said. Then they'd get lazy and there'd be nothing for a few weeks, and then a new agent would take over and repeat the pattern. Apparently, no agent could put up with him for very long. 

Perry read what he could, but it didn't answer any of his questions. It was just a bunch of weird, mostly harmless backstories or pet peeves coupled with the dumbest inators in history. It was entertaining, sure, but not useful. 

Perry makes a mental note to find Agent W when he comes back to work to get the inside scoop. He just really wants to know who hurt Doofenshmirtz enough that he's practically numb to Perry's punch. How was he —

Something touches his head, and he jumps, letting out a "Son of a bitch!" before he can help himself. 

"Perry?"

_Oh shit._

Perry returns to his mindless pet facade, staring off into space. Maybe she'll think she was hallucinating?

"Did you just _swear_ at me?" Candace asks.

Perry chatters — and, for anyone keeping score, his chatters mean literally nothing. OWCA taught him to speak English, not platypus. It's just part of his cover. 

"You did?" Candace points at him accusingly. "You swore at me!"

Perry chatters again. 

"What did Phineas and Ferb do to you?" Candace asks. 

Perry chatters yet again. Are you sensing a theme yet?

"You know what? Screw that," Candace says. She cups her hands around her mouth. "Mom!"

As Candace marches away — either to tattle on him or the boys, he's not quite sure, but it obviously won't work — Perry rolls his eyes. Hopefully she'll forget about this once Phineas and Ferb come home and confirm they had nothing to do with it, and life can go on as normal. 

"Agent P."

Oh, great. As if Candace complaining wasn't enough, now he has to deal with Monogram, too. Perry slaps his hat on — why does the dress code apply to him just sitting at home? — and looks down at his watch. "Can I enjoy my 36 hours off in peace?"

"Yeah, about that." Monogram rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "We just got word that Agent W is out of work until further notice."

Perry groans. "And let me guess. You need someone to keep an eye on Doofenshmirtz, which means I don't get a day off after all." Because why the fuck would he get a break?

"Yes and no," Monogram says. "We're willing to reassign another agent to Doofenshmirtz so you can take on something that's a little more your speed."

Perry scoffs. "Fuck that." If he's taking anybody's job, it's going to be Agent W's. He's not going to make OWCA play hot potato with their agents' assignments just to stick Perry with something that's more boring than this. "I'll take Doofenshmirtz."

"Really?"

"A mostly harmless villain two minutes from my house? Of course I’m gonna pick him."

"You realize he builds something evil pretty much every day," Monogram says. "You're not going to get any time off."

"You've made that _very_ fucking clear."

"And you're still going to have to take out the people you would usually have to," Monogram says. "It's not just thwart Doofenshmirtz’s plans and then you're free to go home and relax.'"

"Of course not," Perry says. "That would imply that you're a benevolent leader, and we both know we can't have that."

Monogram sighs, but, per usual, he decides against arguing over it. "So you're on Doofenshmirtz duty until we can get someone else to cover it?"

"It would seem so."

"Well, that works,” Monogram says. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Unfortunately, you will,” Perry replies. “ _Ciao_.” He ends the call -- he’s not going to let Monogram ramble any longer than necessary -- and curls back up on the floor. 

_Good night, world._

And for a while, he does get to rest. It’s a nice change of pace, too. The house is quiet with just the four of them, enough that once Candace gives up trying to bust her platypus -- who doesn’t do much, Linda reminds her -- he has no problem falling asleep. 

But he’s still a secret agent, and the smallest disturbance can rouse him from his slumber. In this instance, that disturbance is Linda heading out the front door. Perry follows, sitting down by the door and watching her leave. He’s sure someone will notice him and fill him in on what’s happening.

As expected, Lawrence chimes in with, “Oh, it looks like Perry would like to go pick the boys up, too!”

Right, she’s bringing the boys home. He almost forgot they were still at school. It’s weird that the silence when he woke up didn’t tip him off. He must be more out of it today than he thought.

“No, Dad, he’s just sitting on the floor like a platypus,” Candace says. “That’s what platypuses do.”

“I don’t know, dear,” Lawrence says with a frown. “I’d like to think he knows more than we think he does."

With that, Lawrence walks away, and Candace starts to do the same. Perry stays where he is, waiting for his boys. He can’t wait to see what they’ve been up to today -- and he already knows he’ll hear all about it; he always does.

But then Candace comes back, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re _not_ waiting for Mom to bring the boys home, are you? You have no idea what’s happening?”

Perry chatters.

“Just like you can’t talk,” Candace continues, more to herself than the platypus this time. “I’m just sleep-deprived from too much schoolwork.”

Perry decides to mess with her just a little bit by focusing his gaze on her, his eyes locked on her face specifically and not off to the sides like usual. It’s a subtle change, enough to make her uncomfortable without giving away his cover. Candace rubs her eyes and looks at him again, and he's back to normal. 

"I _really_ need a nap."


	7. Chapter 7

Perry plans on crashing into Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated through the window, but just before he kicks it in, he notices the giant red X by the front door that he can only assume is for him. It's not easy to stop his jetpack so close to the target, but he's willing to put in the extra effort if it will make this confrontation go just a little smoother. He wouldn't _usually_ allow himself to be captured — and he definitely wouldn't go out of his way to ensure that it happens — but he's fully aware that no trap Doofenshmirtz sets up can hold him any longer than he'll let it, so what’s the harm in letting Doofenshmirtz have a little fun? 

Perry walks through the front door of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, heading straight for the elevators… which are out of order. Naturally. Fortunately he still has his jetpack, and flying up a staircase might actually be easier than taking the elevator _or_ kicking the window in. He'd make this a daily plan if it wasn't for the weird looks he gets from the other residents of the building. He may not have to keep his identity a secret from random people he sees in passing, but he's not sure he'd be allowed to draw this much unnecessary attention to himself on a daily basis.

Making his way to Doofenshmirtz's door is a piece of cake, as one would expect. He kicks it down with ease and hops right on top of the big red X on the floor. Immediately, he's caught in an oversized dustpan. Seriously. The handle of the dustpan, which would usually clasp onto the broomstick, instead wraps around him with a snug fit — not loose enough that he can easily slip out, but not tight enough that he feels like he can't breathe. This is something he can work with. He could probably break out of it before Doofenshmirtz gets a line off, but if the trap is this inventive, he’s interested to hear what the inator itself is.

"Ah, Perry the Platypus, right on time," Doofenshmirtz drawls. 

"Well, punctuality is in the job description," Perry says. "What's with the cleaning supplies?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Doofenshmirtz says. "You see, Perry the Platypus, when I was a boy back in Gimmelshtump, I had to work odd jobs to make ends meet. I worked as a lawn gnome -- that’s a long story -- and at a dunking booth as the one that got thrown at the target -- again, a long story -- but the one that haunts me the most is my stint at a broom store.”

“A broom store?” Perry repeats. “An entire store dedicated just to selling brooms?”

“Of course not,” Doofenshmirtz says as though that idea is ridiculous -- which it is, but no more ridiculous than any other part of his sentence. “There were dustpans, too.”

“Right, sure,” Perry says, rolling his eyes. “Okay, go on.”

“You see, Perry the Platypus,” Doofenshmirtz says, walking away from the tarp that presumably covers today’s broom-themed inator and towards Perry and his broom-themed trap, “Drusselstein is notoriously anti-broom, and my job was to convince people that brooms were helpful by sitting outside the store sweeping the front stoop. But every single day, just like clockwork, people would throw things at me just to make me clean them up. But no more!”

Doofenshmirtz walks back to the inator, more purpose in each step, and Perry just eyes him skeptically. He can’t imagine any type of inator that could solve this problem. Hell, he doesn’t even know what the problem _is_. Doofenshmirtz isn’t a Drusselsteinian child working at a broom store anymore. What is he hoping to accomplish now?

“Behold, Perry the Platypus!” Doofenshmirtz pulls off the tarp. “The broomless-inator! With this --”

Perry barks a laugh. He can’t help it. A broomless-inator? Is he joking? This sounds like the type of thing Carl would have written for a training exercise back when they were both new to the agency. Even as a kid, Perry would have thought this was a ridiculous waste of his time. The fact that this is an actual case he’s on -- as the best agent at OWCA, no less -- would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so fucking funny. 

“What?” Doofenshmirtz glances behind himself, puzzled. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Perry forces himself to stop laughing, though it’s not easy. “Get back to your spiel.”

“Wait a minute, Perry the Platypus, were you laughing at _me_?” Doofenshmirtz scoffs. 

“What? No, of course -- yeah, actually, yes, I was,” Perry admits, and he doesn’t feel too bad about it. Come on, this is funny. It’s not his fault. 

Doofenshmirtz crosses his arms. “You know, Walden the Warthog never laughed at me.”

“I am infinitely more talented than Agent W is,” Perry says, “but if there’s one thing he has that I don’t, it’s self-control.”

Doofenshmirtz glares at him.

“Anyways, what were you saying?” Perry asks. “The broomless-inator?”

“You know what? Forget about it.” Doofenshmirtz throws the tarp back on over the inator. “I don’t think this nemesisship is working out. I’m going to email Francis and ask for a _new_ new nemesis -- one that will respect me and my work.”

“Trust me, you’re not gonna find one of those,” Perry says. “So, what does the broomless-inator do?”

Doofenshmirtz eyes him warily. “Are you just going to laugh at it again?”

“I won’t; scout’s honor.” Obviously, being a platypus, Perry was never a Boy Scout, but that doesn’t seem important right now.

“Okay…” Doofenshmirtz hesitates but evidently decides to trust him because he resumes his loud and overly-confident tone as he repeats the whole, “Behold, Perry the Platypus, the broomless-inator!” thing. “I will prove to everyone just how important brooms are when I disintegrate every broom in the entire tri-state area!”

Perry fights back another laugh -- more successfully this time, thank god, or he’s decently sure Doofenshmirtz would _actually_ email Monogram to ask for a new nemesis. He doubts Monogram would go through all the trouble of playing musical chairs with the agents’ assignments just to please Doofenshmirtz, but you never know with him. 

“Now I just have to plug this baby in and wait for her to warm up.” Doofenshmirtz pulls the hastily thrown tarp off the inator again and looks around for the plug -- which is conveniently on the floor by the outlet, but if he put it there on purpose, he didn’t seem to remember doing it. 

Perry, being the _very polite_ agent he is, waits for Doofenshmirtz plugs his inator in before breaking out of his dustpan and heading for the self-destruct button. 

Doofenshmirtz steps between him and the inator before he can reach it. "You can't just self destruct all my inators."

Perry stares at him. "That's _literally_ my job."

Doofenshmirtz crosses his arms. "Walden the Warthog didn't just thwart and run."

"Really now," Perry deadpans. 

"No, no he didn't," Doofenshmirtz says indignantly. "Walden the Warthog was committed to our relationship and he proved it by spending more than 30 seconds here every day."

"First of all, if that's your standard of 'caring,' you gotta reevaluate your _entire_ life," Perry says. "Secondly, I stayed through your entire backstory, which is three minutes longer than I needed to. Consider yourself lucky."

"Well, of course you stayed for my backstory," Doofenshmirtz says. "I trapped you. You had no choice."

Perry stares at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He really thinks his trap worked? He genuinely thinks Perry was struggling to free himself all that time, and only broke out right at the end of the backstory because, what, cartoonish coincidence? 

"What do you mean?" Doofenshmirtz asks. 

Perry starts to speak, to explain that he's far less competent than he thinks, but he stops himself. There's no harm in pretending the guy is good at his job. It just means the traps will probably always be easy to escape. 

"Never mind," Perry says. "Here, a little something before I thwart and run, just for you." He jumps up and kicks Doofenshmirtz in the face. 

"See, was that so hard?" 

Perry is once again left with no option but to stare at him. He can't seriously have been looking for a fight — if you can call a very one-sided beatdown from a top-tier OWCA agent a fight. That’s what he wanted the day before, too, now that Perry thinks about it. This really is his standard of “caring,” isn’t it? Maybe he should make a point of giving the guy just a little bit more of a fight from now on. 

"I'd stick around and hit you again," Perry says, "but I gotta be down in New Mexico by noon, so…" He grabs Doofenshmirtz by the wrist and pulls him out of the way, giving him a clear shot to the self destruct button. 

"What's in New Mexico?" Doofenshmirtz asks. "I mean, as far as tourist traps go, New Mexico seems pretty boring."

"Right now, nothing." Perry throws his jetpack over his shoulders. "By noon? Probably our key to taking down a drug cartel."

"I didn't know OWCA focused on drug cartels," Doofenshmirtz remarks. 

"That's 'cause your old nemeses weren't high enough on the food chain for that," Perry says, which he will admit he says with some ill intention; he really didn't _have_ to let Doofenshmirtz know that he's the least of OWCA's worries, but this is just the kind of platypus he is. 

Doofenshmirtz takes it a different way. "I didn't know there were different levels of agents. So I'm moving up on the evil scale, huh?"

Perry barks a laugh. "Mm, keep telling yourself that." He flicks his jetpack on. "'Til tomorrow." He tips his hat, and, without another word, flies off. And now for an international team up with MOWCA — the Mexican Organization Without a Cool Acronym. Because _that's_ always fun. 

And as Perry’s flying away, he hears a faint, “Curse you, Perry the Platypus!”


End file.
